


Leap of Faith

by LiteratureOrgasm



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Angst and Humor, Eggsy is a Little Shit, Eggsy where is your chill, Get Together, Harry is a Little Shit, Harry is a drama queen, Hurt/Comfort, I do what I want, I'M TERRIBLE AT TENSES, I'm Bad At Tagging, JB in cute clothes, Lots of Cursing, M/M, Merlin is tired of everyone's shit, Multi, Mutual Pining, OT3, Oblivious Eggsy, Oblivious Harry, Oblivious Merlin, Only Roxy knows what's up if you get my meaning, Roxy Is a Good Bro, Updates will be random because i am trash, i am literal trash, switching POV
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-07
Updated: 2016-02-04
Packaged: 2018-04-13 10:04:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4517709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiteratureOrgasm/pseuds/LiteratureOrgasm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry is back. Eggsy is upset. Merlin is torn. Roxy is fed up with all the pining. And JB? JB just wishes his human would stop putting him in tiny clothes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Gotta Crack Some Eggs-y To Make An Omelette

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first Kingsman fic. I've only seen it twice, but loved it. I'm typing this fic on a cellphone because my laptop decided to take a vacation.
> 
> Now beta'd/Brit-picked by the wonderful [PirateShipRevenge](http://archiveofourown.org/users/PirateShipRevenge)!
> 
> Any errors left over are my fault.
> 
> I own nothing. I just write these things for my own twisted satisfaction.

It's been nearly a year since V-day and four months since Harry revealed he’d survived, then promptly took on the mantle of Arthur. Eggsy had long since been proven knight material despite failing the final trial and was thusly given the codename Caradoc a mere month after eliminating Valentine and his lethal second in command, Gazelle.

The title of Caradoc was soon shown to be nearly prophetic, as his distress of having his mentor's miraculous ability to survive a shot to the face hidden until after he had been named Arthur, led the Eggsy to defy protocol as much as he possibly could without risking whatever mission he happened to be on. Truly, it was only the fact that Eggsy had to be one of the most phenomenal agents that Kingsman had seen in years, Harry included in his assessment, which kept each mission that the former full time chav acted up during, from going tits up. Such as the mission currently being overseen by Merlin. 

The lanky man is sitting stiffly at attention in his chair, gaze diligently flickering between screens showing the view through various security cameras around the stately ballroom and Eggsy's glasses feed. Merlin silently thanked the male pattern baldness that ran in his family line for once because if he actually had hair at this point in his life, he'd be pulling it out strand by blasted strand. He softly clears his throat before he says in a deceptively mild tone.

"Caradoc. What d'ye think ye'r doin'? D'ye really think now's the best point in time to stop and pull someone? Seeing as the target seems to have noticed something amiss and is slowly making his way out of the room?"

The faintly disbelieving tone of Merlin's voice creeps into Eggsy's - currently Lord Edward for this formal affair - ears, to which the young man has the gall to smirk and then wink at the strikingly handsome Earl Jeffries before excusing himself to 'get a bit of air' to begin the task of making his way across the room after Mark Kimmell without drawing attention to himself.

A cocky little laugh trickles from his throat, lips barely moving as he retorts quietly, "Oi, Merl. Y'can't really blame a bloke, can'ya? That Earl ’s right fit and what’s more he was ready to show me jus' how proper he ain't, y'get me?" A heavy silence that still somehow manages to broadcast extreme irritation is the only reply the young knight gets. Despite the relaxed body language that Eggsy radiates as he walks across the ballroom seemingly in no hurry, it would be clear to anyone with the proper training that beneath the easy going attitude there is a predator just waiting to show itself.

Or, at least, it seems as such to the Harry as he monitors the operation from his office. The older gentleman slowly taps his fingertips while he observes, going from pinky to index and back, against the smooth surface of his heavy oak desk. He tries not to contemplate or take to heart the fact that said 'fit' Earl bore an uncanny resemblance to himself. Well, besides the small coin sized star burst scar that trailed back towards his left temple where Valentine's bullet has seared along his skull, almost reminiscent of a shooting star. Thankfully, the hair that had to be shaved to tend the wound had grown back in fully, though, it was a stark silver along where the bullet had grazed instead of the rich chestnut as rest of his hair.

The only thing that had saved his eye was the bullet resistant frame of his glasses that had just managed to deflect the searing hot, lethal metal so it only glanced along his head. Add that to the fact that even the most minor of head wounds tended to bleed like a stuck pig equaled a very convincing 'death' in the eyes of someone that wasn't in the business of killing up close and personal. Luckily for the Harry, Valentine had been too squeamish to bother examining the man he shot or Harry would have been discovered just injured and unconscious instead of dead.

By the time he woke up, he'd spent nearly four months as coma patient John Doe from the damage of the bullet combined with the hard slamming of his head on the ground in a small, but well supplied Kentucky hospital. The first face he'd seen, a kindly middle aged nurse, had told him where he was and promptly began a standard series of tests to determine if he had any recollection of what was going on or what had happened. He'd been fuzzy headed and nauseous, but still aware enough to give a well-established cover name instead of his real one. After being poked and prodded for an uncomfortably long time, he was gratified when the doctor declared his sight and responses well above what would be expected from someone that had been victim of what was essentially massive blunt force trauma since the bullet hadn't actually entered his head.

Once he'd been able to stay awake for more than a few minutes at a time, which took a very frustratingly long week, he requested the hospital let him call his cousin Marlon (and once Merlin was over the shock of getting a call from a dead man, he had happily mocked Harry for that failure of a fake name - Harry was too much of a gentleman to mention the breathy, cracked quality of Merlin's voice) to bring him home to London. What followed had been several months of recovery and physical therapy to deal with the shakiness that he suddenly had in both of his hands along with the slight hitch in his speech before they brought him forth to everyone as the newly crowned Arthur.

With a slight shake of his head, Harry tunes back into Eggsy's glasses’ feed, listening to the boy playfully taunt Merlin as he makes his way stealthily after their target. It makes a hard, painful knot squeeze somewhere behind the older agent's sternum to hear since Harry got nothing but professional, polite and work oriented conversation said in the poshest of tones from his protégé since he'd revealed himself to be alive. How he longed to hear that rough, playful South London accent that he'd become so fond of aimed towards him once again. Before that horrid incident in the loo with Mr. Pickles as a silent witness; before the terrible massacre in that farce of a church. Bloody hell, he'd even be happy to be called 'bruv' or the ever so loathed nickname 'Hazza' that Eggsy had taken it upon himself to call Harry at every opportunity. Anything... anything that would show he hadn't lost the boy's friendship for good.

"Caradoc, if ye would stop making terrible puns about intercourse with a noble, ye mighta noticed that the tracker y'managed to put on Kimmell has gone quiet. I also seem to be unable to see him in any of the CCTV cameras in the immediate area. Mighta lucked out and stopped in a blind spot. Proceed with caution."

At once, the playful banter stopped flowing from the knight, the feed from the glasses cautiously peering around a corner that was nearly pitch black due to how closely the buildings were clustered together. "I'm not getting a visual on the target. I'll have to move forward to try and find a higher point. I can't believe that toff managed to-" a grunt and the feed begins broadcasting from the trash strewn ground as the glasses are knocked from Eggsy's face.

Harry can hear Merlin efficiently requesting agent Lancelot make her way to Caradoc's position to assist, the brogue that is always threaded through his voice thickening with underlying concern. This is all background noise to Harry as he sits forward tensely in his seat and watches what little he can see on his laptop. Truly, he wouldn't be so concerned if he hadn't begun to hear the slur in Eggsy's taunts while he fought, which may mean a concussion or even one of the several assailants drugging him. Harry can see at least four other pairs of feet besides the weaponized Oxfords and the knight's feet are clearly starting to slow as he fights. Harry’s knuckles whiten where he grips the arms of his chair, a sharp inhale making his head throb as his Eggsy goes down hard in just the right way to allow Harry to see a large booted foot pull back before slamming forward savagely into the boy’s side, no doubt fracturing, if not outright breaking a few ribs . By this time, it's clear he is unconscious, his Kingsman issued glasses left behind to record him being dragged off.

Harry is on his feet and out the door to stride down the hall towards Merlin's workshop before he is even aware of his body's decision to stand.

**

Merlin continues to orchestrate even as his heartrate picks up further the moment his charge is out of sight, only years of dealing with crisis upon crisis keep him able to continue relaying the situation to Lancelot while simultaneously searching his monitors for any sign of the fallen agent. Somehow, the goons that had managed to get the upper hand on the normally lethal Caradoc were able to duck out of sight even with an unconscious boy to lug around with them.

The tech magician would rather get thrown from a window than admit it, but ever since the three of them had taken down Valentine, he had been inordinately fond of both Caradoc and Lancelot. The fact that two youngsters, barely out of training and with no mission experience whatsoever, had managed to literally save the world had endeared them to him irreversibly. He would always have a soft spot for them and he couldn't find it in himself to regret the sentiment. While he tried not to admit it, even to himself, he did quite often find his gaze lingering on the boy more often than not, sometimes getting caught red-handed and getting a knowing look from Lancelot. The door of his work area slams open and Harry nearly stumbles in, the most flustered Merlin has seen him in decades. He raises a single brow at his King, expression neutral but the facade somewhat ruined by the distress evident in the normally unflappable technician's eyes.

"Arthur. I see ye were watching Caradoc's transmission as well. Make yur'self useful and watch these CCTV feeds so that I can concentrate on the information Lancelot will provide once she gets to where he was taken." It is truly a testament to how distraught Harry must be that he just nods curtly and takes a seat to begin searching the security cameras within a three mile perimeter of where Eggsy was taken.

**

Lancelot finally makes it to the point where her friend was taken, voice shot through with a menacing flatness as she informs Merlin, and evidently Arthur, that she has arrived. She picks up his glasses with a gentleness that one would use with something precious and turns her head to take in the entirety of the area slowly to allow Merlin to take note of anything that may be of help locating her best friend. "I don't see anything of Caradoc's aside from the glasses." Her heel breaks a piece of glass as she crouches down, sharp eyes falling upon what appears to be some sort of dart no bigger than her pinky. She pulls a pair of gloves and an evidence bag from a pocket, carefully putting the dart in it and sealing it up. "I've found a dart. Clear casing with the insides of a syringe. It looks like he was dosed with something, likely a sedative, near the beginning of the fight. I've seen him take down two dozen men before with not a scratch. Four would have been like a vacation for him if he had all of his wits about him."

"Do ye see anything out of the ordinary tha' they may have left behind, Lancelot?" A shake of her head is the only reply she gives him since she knows he will interpret the movement as a negative answer to his question. The movement results in some strands of the honey blonde of her hair to fall into the sight of her glasses as some of it loosens from the gentle bun it had been in since she had been off duty when she was called. She hears a soft curse, not in the almost rough timbre of their handler, but instead in a crisp, enunciated tone that she knows would have thrilled Eggsy as they rarely hear Harry curse. Merlin's voice sounds tired as he orders her to return to the Kingsman mansion so they can begin to plan how to find and extract their friend.


	2. Sweet Dreams Are Made Of These

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tick-tock

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now beta'd/Brit-picked by the wonderful [PirateShipRevenge](http://archiveofourown.org/users/PirateShipRevenge)!
> 
> Any errors left over are my fault.

  _A bright, delighted laugh echos through the flat immediately followed by a distinctly canine whine. A young man kneels on the floor as a pudgy little pug wriggles and flails in an effort to escape as the last little winged trainer is put on his foot. Eggsy laughs, expression gleeful when he finally gets the fourth tiny shoe secured onto JB's paw with a triumphant 'hah!'_

_JB gazes up at his owner with a decidedly disgruntled expression after having suffered through being clothed in bright blue trackies (a little hole specially made for his curly little tail to stick out of the trousers), a matching collar with gold accents, winged trainers and a little snapback complete with an elastic strap to keep it on. Eggsy looks quite chuffed with himself as he stands, the little dog's leash already attached to his collar.  He made his way to the door, JB reluctantly trotting along after him. Eggsy grins down at his dog, fondness making his mossy eyes stand out all the brighter._

_"C'mon then, bruv. Duncha wanna show off fer all them fit lady dogs?" Another laugh spills from his lips, all rich honey and soft warmth as he leads his handsome little pet down the hall..._

**

Eggsy wakes with a ragged gasp and violent shudder, the icy water that had been thrown on him dripping down his almost naked body. It takes much longer than it normally would for him to start assessing the situation, head feeling like it was splitting and torso nothing by lancing, sharp pain caused by each breath.

Once he regains the ability to focus on anything besides the agony in his head, several things become apparent very quickly. One: he was very securely fastened to a chair, arms behind his back and his legs secured to the front chair legs. Two: the chair was bolted to the floor, so his rocking did nothing but jostle what felt like bruised - please let them only be bruised - or fractured ribs. Three: he must have a concussion because despite his training, he was muzzy enough that during his mental fumblings, he'd failed to notice he wasn't alone until he was punched quite harshly in the temple.

After taking a few breaths to recover,  the young Knight speaks with a slight slur and pain thickened accent, "'Ey! No need fo' tha', fanks ver' much. If'n I'd known you woz into th' kinky stuff, I woulda figured out a safe word firs', ya get me?" Eggsy bares his bloody teeth in what would be considered a charming smile in certain situations, but in this particular instance is just a tad too shark-like to be taken as anything other than threatening. He gazes up at Mark Kimmell, the target he should have been tailing and stealing the plans for a very dangerous biological weapon from.  The man shakes his fist out slightly, a tiny wince marring his features for an instant before smoothing away into an entirely blank, placid expression.

The man's accent is entirely American, all slurred together syllables and heavily pronounced vowels . "Look here, you asshole. I really have no idea who you are or what you’re after, but I saw enough of your fighting to know you aren't anyone small time. You aren't a mugger, so who are you? Are you with the police?" He pauses, brow raised and paired with a look that was obviously meant to intimidate. To be frank, his face is boring and forgettable, average with nothing standing out that would make him easy to identify. Which, Eggsy supposes, would be quite an asset towards a criminal information runner's success.

"Cor blimey, where's th' romance, luv? Usually when I wake up in jus' my pants, fings are about t'get more fun, yeah?" He waggles his eyebrows suggestively, not at all surprised when his taunt results in a blow to his solar plexus.  He inhales sharply to avoid releasing the groan that wanted to burst from his mouth. "Ah. Straigh' to th' tough love, I see... I 'ave to tell ya, man, if ya bring out the clamps next, I'll have ta' draw th' line righ' ther-" The slap makes it feel like his brain is bouncing around in his skull, which in turn makes him nauseous. _Maybe Merlin was right about that whole shutting my mouth thing..._ His thoughts are a bit jumbled, which only serves to prove his concussion theory is likely correct from his initial injury inventory.

"You better shut the fuck up, whatever you're ranting about needs to stop,  you little bitch, now tell me who fucking sent you!" His face is a red,  mottled mask of fury, the man obviously not the patient type. After a moment, he huffs out a rough sigh and uses both hands to smooth his already well styled hair down. A smile stretches his thin lips wide in what Eggsy assumes is supposed to be a reassuring manner before he speaks again.

"Look. It would be a lot easier if you just told me what you were doing at that party  tonight and why you felt like you needed to follow me. If you do that, well, maybe I could be persuaded to let you go. See? Easy as pie." He spreads his hands out, palms up in a placating manner, his expression a poor attempt at sincerity. If he didn't think it would make his head hurt worse, Eggsy would be rolling his eyes at this point.

 _And you'll give me a pretty pony too, yeah?_ Even if he didn't have the training to read body language, he would still have been able to sense the utter falsity of Kimmel's words. He opts to remain silent, jaw clenched and jutting out in a way that clearly broadcasted his refusal of Kimmel's 'offer.'

A faint tic begins in the American's jaw before his lips spread suddenly in a sunny smile, the deadness that abruptly dulls his eyes creates a terrifying combination a moment before he turns on his heel. The sharp tap of each footstep towards the steel, wheeled table to the left of Eggsy's chair echoes. His tone takes on an eeriely sing-song quality when he begins to mess about with whatever is on the table, his captive unable to see what is there.

"Tsk-tsk, little man. I really don't like to do things the hard way, you see, but, when I have to... Well, I like to make sure I have a little fun, you know." The light is back in his eyes, but nothing in them is anything but malicious glee to match that cheerful grin. Two of the fingers of his left hand snap together to suddenly turn a bright light on to shine directly in to Eggsy’s eyes, the young man barely suppressing a flinch and the urge to turn his head to the side too fast. "If you won't let me in on your secrets, then I will just have to see if I can show you how much keeping secrets hurts my feelings."

Eggsy snorts softly, but doesn't say anything, intent on watching through squinted eyes in an effort to see just what’s in store for him. The glint of light off metal makes him want to stiffen in alarm, but he doesn't want to give the arsehole the satisfaction of seeing him react. The simple silver pliers look innocuous, but the implication of their appearance sends his pulse racing despite his best efforts. Kimmell crouches down in front of him and taps the pliers against the top of his bare foot and gazes up at Eggsy as he forces the tool against the meat of his big toe until he is able to grip the nail with them.

"Last chance: Who. Are. You. With?" When he receives nothing but silence, a shrug lifts both shoulders before he jerks with a powerful, but slow pull to separate the nail from its fleshy bed and seems to revel in the muffled keen of pain his victim makes if the quick pass of his tongue over his lips when he grins is any indication.

Kimmell reaches up to playfully pat Eggsy's chest, his other hand still holding the pliers and the bloody nail. "Come on, man. Can't you just give me the information I want?" More silence is his answer, the only sounds coming from his captive are barely audible, but very shaky huffs of air. He releases a delighted laugh and springs to his feet in one easy motion to make his way back over to his table. 

"You know what? That's alright. I can just soften you up some more. I actually do have all day to do this." He hums while picking up a small mallet about the size of a fist, passing it between his hands as if to test its weight and balance. He continues talking, tone deceptively mild as if talking of the weather to a stranger to pass the time.

"I don't really get to work on my skills much as I would like, since I prefer to remain unseen, you see. It is pretty hard to remain invisible when leaving... decorated corpses behind. But hey! That's okay because when I do-" a swift swing of the mallet connects with Eggsy's left knee, easily breaking it and resulting in a howl of pain, "ahem, when I do, I get to savor it _so_ much more~" He casually punctuates his words worth a harsh slap that would have rocked Eggsy over to the floor in the chair if it hadn't been bolted to the ground. 

"Now. Anything you'd like to say, boy?"

Eggsy draws a heavy breath in, torso trembling with the strain for the few moments it takes him to meet his abuser's gaze. A smirk pulls his split, vaguely swollen lips into a decidedly cocky curve before he drawls slowly. 

"Pugs."

"... Pugs? What?"

"Been finkin'... shoulda picked out a safeword, bruv, coz I gotta tell ya... this is a might kinkier than I woulda... woulda figured a yank t'be, yeah? Pugs woulda been a good safewo-" The rambling ceases with a rather vicious punch to the temple - _totally uncalled for, mate_ \- that sends his vision swirling. The next instant, all he knows it darkness.

**  

A hand on Harry’s shoulder startles him out of the almost daze he had fallen into after the hours he spent reviewing feed after feed of CCTV, rapidly blinking to moisten long dried out eyes. A delicate china cup enters his field of vision, held inches in front of his face by a worried looking Roxy, the skin between her brows drawn tight.

"You need to take a short break, sir. You've been at it for nearly seven hours. Maybe you should go rest." 

Harry instantly bristles at the suggestion, taking the tea grudgingly and swallowing a couple of sips to give himself a moment to regain his composure. Once the cup is placed in a deliberately careful manner on the workstation he had taken over since the mission had gone south, he looks up at his young agent and replies in a tone that brooks no argument and gives no room for anything but his command.

"I will rest when I so see fit to do so, Lancelot, though I am grateful for your concerm however misplaced it may be." With a nod, he stands and makes his way over to Merlin, Harry can see the fatigue pillowed in dark circles beneath the Scot's eyes. "Have you found anything that will-" An alarm blares in an obnoxius klaxon, cutting him off and sending the bald man into a flurry of activity.

"One'a Eggsy's trackers jus' activated... Near the Thames," the words are grim, unspoken thoughts clear on why the tracker in the boy's Kingsman issue tie would have suddenly flared to life. "It is most likely a trap, Harry, you cannae jus' run off like a fool." A heavy sigh leaves him as he takes in Arthur's movements, the former agent gearing up with single focused determination while Lancelot is barely a step behind him. 

"It is, in all likelihood, a trap, yes. However, that is not going to stop me from retreiving him and bringing him back safely. So, you may as well resign yourself to being our eyes and ears while we go, should you not?" At the curt nod for their head handler, they head out with nary a word more to the waiting car that follows the same directions that are being relayed to both their glasses.

**

A gentle patting to his cheek pulls him from an uneasy rest, mumbles falling from his lips as he struggles to focus, "oi, Daisy, lemme sleep. Go fin' mum, lil bit." The patting becomes rougher, more like stinging slaps along with a low chuckle that jolts him out of his half unconscious state rather violently and forces him to remember where he is. 

"Not sure who this Daisy cunt is, but hey, maybe I can try to find out later. Does she like to party, hm?" The leer he throws Eggsy only serves to enflame the rage that had been barely banked in the beaten man at his precious sister's name falling from that disgusting bastard's mouth. The sharp lances of pain shooting through his chest and knee in reaction to him suddenly straining at his bindings does nothing to stop him from trying to get at the man.

"I'll fuckin' kill you, you tosser, you lay one filthy finger on-" 

"Tsk. So predictable, aren't you?" He pulls his hand back after the slap that had cut off the threat. "How boring, I swear 'Oh, no. You had better not hurt blah blah!' Honestly. So annoying." That mallet is back, twirled between his hands and watched with extreme wariness by the one that had already felt its violent kiss once. Which makes him suddenly remember his knee and the pain of it suddenly slams back into his awareness. 

"Anyways, we should be getting back to our activities now that your powernap is over." The sudden explosion that sends the steel door and surrounding wall flying in makes an almost comical expression appear on Kimmell's face, the same instant a dark hole blooms right between his eyes and he crumbles to the ground. 

Eggys has just enough time to meet Harry's furious gaze and throw out a cheery, "'bout time, guv," before the darkness takes him again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments, kudos and constructive critics loved. Prompts? I need practice, so feel free to leave prompts in my askbox on [tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/literatureorgasm)


	3. Joyful Heartbreak

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (The title is lame, I know. Shhh. xD) Guns, machetes and thighs, oh, my. Merlin. Bruh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now beta'd/Brit-picked by the wonderful [PirateShipRevenge](http://archiveofourown.org/users/PirateShipRevenge)!
> 
> Any errors left over are my fault.
> 
> Hope you guys are still interested.

_Light... Dark... That was it. Light. Then Dark. Repeating endlessly. Tirelessly. Nothing to stop it. Over and over. Then muffled voices would sometimes break through to offer respite from what felt like torture that couldn't be escaped from, but that blessed respite faded just as quickly._  


"Eggsy...please..."  


_Then nothing again but darkness as he tried to scream...  
_

****  


[[Rescue]]

The trip to the location where they had picked up Eggsy's signal was fraught with both tension and fury. Despite this, Harry's face was professsional, composed and showing nothing but the of the gentleman he was. Inside, though, a nearly feral rage was barely contained. A kettle boiling with rage, fear, possession.... _Mine. How DARE they lay a single hand on him. His precious boy. MY precious, dear darling b..._  


Harry blinks himself out of his thoughts when they stopped, suddenly reaching their desitintion; he glanced at Lancelot and aross to Gawain, the only other person they had allowed to come with them. They all nod, making sure their glasses are on properly and run a quick inventory on weapons before they exit the cab a small distance from the building. They make sure to stay out of sight from the cameras Merlin had disabled for them, just in case, Lancelot easily taking out the single guard at the side entrance so they could make their way in, sticking to the wall.  


Gawain immediately tries to take the lead, but Harry quells him with a single look that brooks not a single argument, even though he was technically not supposed to be in the field anymore despite still being able to pass all the field tests, but as Arthur he was supposed to stay in the office. No one had even bothered to argue, however, when he had made his way out with the two field agents once Eggsy's location was discovered since their leader fancying the rash boy was only a secret to the oblivous Eggsy. 

The halls they make their way down are suspiciously empty, so they remain cautious as Merlin calmly relays directions to the three through the comms to get to the room their Caradoc is contained in. At the mention of Eggsy, Harry's composure nearly cracks to show his rage, but he manages to swallow the urge to snarl just as they turn the corner to the hall that leads to his goal. What meets his gaze actually makes him smile. Cold, all teeth, predatory, not reaching his eyes and clearly wanting blood; but a smile is a smile, is it not? 

The first guard raises his gun just a mite too slow considering he has suddenly grown a small dagger from the artery in the side of his neck a moment before he falls; his comarades gazing at the dead man in shock as Harry tilts his head in an oddly bird-like manner, expression politely blank and eyebrows raised ever so slightly up towards his neatly coiffed fringe as if waiting for them to take their turn.

Even knowing how very serious the situation is, Lancelot releases a small titter and shocks the goons from their trance. Two of the five remaining men charge so typically at her, no strategy or planning, that she rolls her eyes and jumps in the air fluidly to neatly roundhouse kick one in the head hard enough to send him sprawling a couple meters while at the same time squarely shooting another in the temple. 

She lands in a one-kneed crouch and takes out the one she had kicked with a poison dart from her watch, briefly seeing Gawain jumping in the air to wrap his thighs around a man's neck to snap it and gracefully dismounting. _Where had she seen that move before?_ She doesn't have much time to think about it as she watches in awe as Harry neatly slashes a guard from navel to sternum with a machete that she can’t fathom the origin of, all the while shooting the last man through the throat then between the eyes.

As the last man falls dead, Arthur straightens up, rolls his shoulders then neck while still holding both weapons for a moment before dropping the knife. He calmly motions for the other two to move back, which they quickly do, and moves towards the door that the men had been standing around with precisely measured steps that radiate a type of danger that would make even the most unaware person instinctively wary. 

Harry removes a pin from his tie carefully as he stops before the door. He flicks his thumb against the tie pin and throws it against the steel door he is about twenty feet from and braces himself. The pin explodes the instant it impacts the surface of the grey door, sending it flying inwards. 

Harry doesn't even wait for the smoke to clear before he makes his way in, the manner in which he moves reminecent of a panther, all lean muscle and not a bit of wasted effort. The smoke is still thick, barely cleared at all, but seemingly gone just enough for the seasoned agent's needs as he lifts the gun and fires, hitting the bastard that had dared to violate what was his directly in the head just after the door slammed to the ground, Harry's own vision narrowed down to nothing but the kill. 

_"'bout time, guv."_

Harry's gaze snaps up fom Kimmel's slowly cooling corpse when he hears him, a snarl of rage twisting his face and his mask shattering when he takes in the condition of Carad-- No. Eggsy. The older agent is over to the beaten man faster than he ever thought himself capable of moving, not hearing the gasp of the other two behind him nor the curse of Merlin in his comm.

"Eggsy, Eggsy... My dear boy. Wake up..." His voice is hoarse and frantic; with rage, with fear, with a million emotions he would never or couldn't admit to as he worked on freeing the boy and knowing that help to get the injured agent to medical was already on the way.

******

_Light. Voices. Shadows. Just one voice now. Light._

He is blinded by the light and greeted by a tone made hoarse with worry, but almost breathy with unconcealed joy.

"You know that it is not very gentlemanly to leave one waiting so long, dear boy."

Eggsy turns his head to meet the soft, but uncertain gaze of his former mentor and current boss. The concern Eggsy is allowed to see in those tired eyes makes something in his chest break, the icy feeling that had been there for so long breaking down at the way Harry looked as if he expected to be booted out of the room in any second. _Daft old bugger... as if I didn't need him..._ He gives him a very faint smile and lifts a brow, he hopes he lifts it anyways as these drugs are pretty strong, and scoffs.

"Ain't m'fault y'took so long t'join th'party, guv..." His gaze is soft as he looks at Harry and he slowly turns his hand over in offering, the older agent looking surprised but quickly placing his larger hand on Eggsy's to thread their fingers together. Harry blinks rapidly several times as he looks at their hands, a faint sheen of moisture in his eyes as he swallows slightly. Eggsy clears his throat and meets the other's gaze when he looks up to offer him a sunny smile, then a nod, expresson showing every bit of affection he had been holding back in his anger. 

He gasps and cannot hold himself back, leaning down and tenderly pressing his lips to the younger man's plush ones, finally tasting what he had waited so long for.

****

Merlin watches from outside the room, heart breaking as he watches everything he had wanted crumble before him. He had gotten the alert that Eggsy had awoken and made his way there immediately, but should have known Harry would have already been there. He allows himself one moment to swallow the pain, one moment to close his eyes after their lips meet and act as if he wasn't wanting to fall to his knees for the first time in longer than he could remember, free hand clenching tightly at his side. Then he opens his eyes, nostrils flaring and his face blanking while his shoulders square. He turns sharply and makes his way back to his office. He would check on the patient later. He had reports to file.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments, kudos and constructive critics loved. Prompts? I need practice, so feel free to leave prompts in my askbox on [tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/literatureorgasm)

**Author's Note:**

> Comments, kudos and constructive critics loved. Prompts? I need practice, so feel free to leave prompts in my askbox on [tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/literatureorgasm)


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